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“Mom wasn’t happy when I decided to go to the academy, but Joe was so proud I would’ve sworn he was gonna bust.”
“And I’m sure Max is proud of you, too.”
Pro sighed. “I guess so. Man, so many memories have been coming up since he arrived. I’ve been thinking back, and he was right, I did tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore when I was a teenager. I guess that hurt him.”
“You were angry because he left you and your mom.”
“And I never understood why Mom didn’t get angry about it.”
“Maybe she did and didn’t want to let you see it.”
Pro paused and looked at the floor in thought. “I think maybe it’s time I talked to her about it.”
“Might be the right time,” Chu said, and glanced over as Jacobs walked into the room. “Where did he end up, Jacobs?”
Jacobs moved closer and peered down at Chu and Pro. ”I came by to tell you that he’s in holding cell three, but it was strange, detective.”
“Strange in what way?” Chu responded.
“You know how a prisoner turns over all his belongings at the processing desk. Well, all of his pockets were empty: no wallet, no money, only a pair of glasses—said he needs them to read.”
Pro stood. “Nothing in his pockets? How about a deck of cards?”
Jacob frowned. “Nothing.”
Pro looked at the tall officer and her eyes moved to his chest, which showed both of the pockets of his uniform in one unbroken space of very dark blue.
“Crap, crap, crap,” Pro muttered.
Chu stared at his partner. “What is it?”
“C’mon,” Pro pressed urgently and began to move. “We have to check on him, right now.”
“What?” Chu said, confused but following Pro. “He’s in holding. Where could he go?”
“It’s Max, dammit. Misdirection,” Pro said as they walked through the hallways quickly.
“What’d you mean?” Chu wondered. “What does misdirection have to do with him being in holding?”
“His pants,” Pro said as she picked up the pace.
“What about them?”
Pro stopped in the hall near the processing desk. “They had a stripe down them. I didn’t think about it until I looked at Jacobs’ uniform.”
Chu frowned. “What was wrong with his uniform? He looked fine to me.”
Pro lowered her voice. “His badge backer was missing.”
“What?”
“Sh! His badge backer, the thing that holds his badge, name tag, and citation ribbons.”
“I know what it is. I was in uniform once.”
They turned and headed to lockup, where a very heavy steel door waited. An NYPD officer watched the door and had to buzz them in.
As they stepped into holding, which was in a ‘T’ shape, there was a center corridor with cells on both sides. This went ten feet and split into two passageways, one to the right and one to the left, and more cells. Pro leaned over to peek at the lock on the first barred door.
